Ad Reparare
by NyghtWalker
Summary: After over one hundred years of constant betrayal and disappointment, an old man chooses to correct his mistakes, solve problems before they occur, and throw a thousand wrenches in the plans of his old Headmaster. Not your oh so classic style of Time Travel!Harry. Pairings undecided.
1. Chapter 1

**A couple of things before reading. This is a time travel story, but not in the way many others do so. Not the whole he dies and go back, or time turner troubles, or sending his body back.**

**No, this is a bit more original, and I say original because I have yet to read a story that does this. Hopefully you enjoy what I have to offer.**

**I know I have other stories I could write on, but this one is really getting to me, so I had to release at least one chapter of it. Depending on the reviews, I will post more. Call me a stickler, but I have to get ready for finals, so focusing on too many things at once will kill me.**

**Anyway, lets get on with this...**

***I own nothing, only my ideas, but I can't copyright those either.***

**Chapter 1: Prologue**

A small box made its way down a hallway, carried by a woman dressed in white and baby blue. Turning the corner down the dreary and sad corridor, she made her way bast several elderly people, trying her best to ignore their groans or the occasional catcall of the more perverted individuals. As she made it to the end of the walkway, she came across as simple brown door, with the number '627' on it. Knocking softly, she leaned in to the door.

"Mr Adalin, I have some news for you. Are you awake?" She asked, waiting patiently. A small clattering of metal signaled her that someone was in the room.

"Yes dear lady, please come in." A gruff voice answered, to which the woman nodded and creaked open the door, taking a step into the room.

It was plain. The walls were a soft grey, the only furniture being a chair stationed in front of a vintage TV. A small bed that was worn and sagged, the metal springs being a bit past their age and the wooden base beams being weary of too much weight. The desk from across the woman was littered with several open books, most of which of fairy tales and folklore of old. Finally, the last was a wheelchair, but currently occupied by a long bearded old man.

"Oh, Maradith, how good to see you." The elderly man stated with a soft smile, rolling himself around to look at her.

Maradith smiled back at the old man, finding herself once again captured in his lost but no less intelligent eyes. "Thank you Mr Adalin. I just wanted to inform you of some things. First of all, a new package arrived." She stated, holding up the small package with a hand firmly gripping the cardboard. The aged man smiled even wider, though his face wouldn't allow him to move his face as much as he would have liked.

"Of, how wonderful. Thank you Maradith. Please place it on the desk over there, just be careful of some of the books, they are older than I." He softly chuckled, to which she felt her self do the same.

"You seem to order quite a few things online, Mr Adalin. " The caretaker stated, walking over to the desk where all his books lay open. As she set down the item, she couldn't help but glance at some of the stories that laid open. To be honest, she had never heard of half of these books. What in the world was The Beedle and the Bard?

The old man's chuckle broke her from her thougthts. "Well, you can't expect me to enjoy TV all day, much less spend time gossiping with Mrs Goldfield about what her daughters are doing. Besides, the rocks I collect are quite beautiful." He answered, rolling around once again, the wheels clicking against the warped metal of the chair.

"I can't help but agree with you there Mr Adalin. On both accounts." she stated, smoothing out her dress and looking at the small assortment of brightly colored rocks that littered his nightstand. Maradith was about to say something else when a flash of remembrance entered her mind. "Actually, I almost forgot, but I have other news."

"Oh? Is it meatloaf Monday already?" The elderly gentleman stated with a slight bit of cheer in his voice. Maradith shook her head. "No Mr Adalin, it's only Saturday...I need to inform you that your... grandson has arrived to visit." She stated with a bit of bitterness in her voice.

The room seemed to loose all life at the statement, the cheery old man going from his happy disposition to solemn in a matter of seconds. His eyes seemed to drain away into cold stoic emptiness. "I see." He stated simply. The old man rolled over to his window, looking out from his second floor window, his face hidden away from Maradith's vision.

"Send him in. He is impatient and will most likely get himself lost in an attempt to come looking for me." And with that, Maradith nodded, reluctantly going to fetch the most mild mannered and gentle member of the retirement center's family member. One that didn't resemble him in the slightest.

After Maradith left, closing the door behind her, it wasn't long, maybe a few moments, until a hand slammed open the room's door, steps following behind, stomping their way up to the aged gentleman, who was still faced towards the window.

"Judging by the amount of noise, I must guess it's Maxwell." The gruff voice exited the retired man's lips, not even bothering to turn and face his grandson.

"I don't have time for games, Grandfather." A snobbish voice grouted out, grabbing the handles of the wheelchair and spinning them around as so both adults were facing each other. However, the boy immediately let go of the chair and took a step back when he saw the cold and powerful look his grandfather gave him. The ice practically freezing over the emeralds trapped within. The young man straightened himself out and realigned his expensive attire.

"What do you need, Maxwell. You never visit unless it-"

"The coffers are empty, as well as the treasury, vaults, and family chests. There is nothing left!" The man whined out furiously. The handicapped gentleman simply sighed.

"I as I tried to state, the only time you come to visit is when it involves money." The boy sneered at his elder.

"I need money for my son's upcoming school year. He is a second year and needs a new Nimbus XV 4000 to make the team." The old man rolled his eyes and re-positioned himself over to the window, looking down upon the view that he has grown accustom to. The flowers of bright lavender and bright white lilies and orchids. He could stare for years. He already has been doing so for quite a while.

"I'm talking to you old man. What am I suppose to do?! There is no money left in the family accounts!" The man child whined out, his voice permeating the walls and garnering the attention of the nurses and caretakers listening in.

"Why don't you get a job." The old man state tersely. "And tell everyone else to as well. Your Aunts, Uncles, parents, brothers, and sisters. Who knows, you might just learn a bit of work ethic." The elderly man sighed, retaking control of his composure. "I gave your parents plenty of opportunities, as well as you and your siblings. You could have saved the family name, but instead, you continued to drag it through the mud, not caring the slightest about the future." The old man turned around, leveling a gaze at his now anger filled grandson. "Now your are penniless, as you left me all those years ago. I was smart enough to save some money so I could spend my final days here, but you and the rest of them have not done the same, and you will suffer the consequen- arrg!" Before the elderly man could finish, his chair was knocked over by a blast of energy, leaving him aching on the floor.

The eavesdropping nurses opened the door as soon as they heard the sounds, rushing over to the downed old man, not noticing the other in the room slip a piece of polished wood back up his sleeve. Maradith looked down at the now groaning man, looking him over. She looked up at his grandson and glared at him. "Please leave now Mr Weasley, before I call security." The vulgar man leveled more last glance at the now downed senior before sauntering out the door.

"Mr Adalin, are you alright?" Maradith asked. The old man waved his hand, grabbing a hold of his chair, and slowly pulling himself back into it.

"I'm fine dear, thank you for your concern. I should have seen that coming." The elderly man huffed out. "That boy has his Great Uncle Ronald's temper, and is as bullheaded as Ginerva." He spoke evenly, making great effort not to let his magic spring out and scare the caretakers.

After double-checking the aged man, going over his possible injuries, the woman were all ushered out by said man, who hated nurses with a passion. He was eventually left to himself, waving goodbye to Maradith one more time before the door closed. The elderly man sighed, now having his room to himself once more.

*Tap Tap*

Or not.

Looking over to the glass of the window, the aged gentleman caught sight of a small animal, one with a letter in its beak. Rolling over to the window, the old man pushed the window open, looking down at the owl that level a mean gaze at him. "What do you want little creature? A treat?" The owl nodded to the offer, to which the man reached over to his desk and grabbed a small bag, pulling out a few treats and handing them to the owl, who traded with him in exchange for the letter. Grabbing a hold of the letter, he immediately recognized the emblem. Tearing open the letter with old and careful fingers, he broke the wax and pulled out the wrinkled parchment, which was inscribed by his most/least favorite people.

_West Chester, New York, United States of America_

_15400 Fordridge Way_

_Pillshire Greens Retirement Center_

_Building C, Room 627_

_Dear Lord Potter-Black,_

_We regret to inform you that all the monies at Gringotts bank under your name, including heirlooms, vaults, family treasures, and portraits, have been confiscated for the overwhelming debt that you have acquired. While we have ignored this problem because of our friendship, the debt has grown too high due to your family's voracious spending. All vaults and treasuries have been placed on lock-down until payments can be made._

_Sincerely, King Garthorn, Son of Ragnok_

The old man sighed, looking over at the bird. "You may go, little one, I have no need to send anything back to them." The bird bobbed its head and flew off, leaving the broke man to himself. He stayed still in his seat, not moving an inch as he thought about his current predicament.

"Actually, I have nothing left to say to anyone." He mummered, rolling over to his desk, pushing away his old books and grabbing a hold of the package. Tearing it open with tarnished fingers, he came across the sight that brought a smile to his wrinkled face.

"Finally." He stated with relief.

Placing the box on his lap, the elder Potter rolled over to the door and locked it before making his way to his bed, placing his hand on the faded banister wood. After a moment of focus, a rug rolled out from underneath, spreading and taking up most of the floor of the sparse room. Using a bit of wandless magic, he called forth the rocks on his nightstand one by one. As he did so, he leaned down from his chair and rolled around the edge of the rug, placing the gems in each slot where they belonged, the runes surrounding them humming as soon as they were in place. Green, blue, gold, silver, while, clear, red, the colors of different and diverse rocks and stones were placed in a pattern. Before he finished his circle, the old man pushed himself out of his wheelchair, using his arms to crawl his way to the center of the rug, careful not to knock around the fragile gems that were now humming with magic.

As he finally placed his damaged legs in a criss cross for stability. he continued to summon his rocks and placed them where they went. The rug began to glow even brighter, each of the stones vibrating with the energy of his magic, which has been imbued into the very strings and stitch of the surface it lay on top of. The runes all interconnected, glowing softly in a a network that led to where he now sat. Finally, he summoned the little brown box, pulling out the last item. A single tiny piece of stone, one that seemed to shine with an ethereal energy. It was red in color, much smaller than any of the others yet seemed to have the most power.

"You were a hard one to find little one. Flamel did well to hide the pieces after his death but Shackelbot's kids seemed to find one of you." He chuckled was true that Nicholas Flamel destroyed the stone, but he could not fully eradicate it. It was broken so it could not make the elixir or make gold, but that didn't mean the pieces were useless either.

Channeling his magic through the rune covered rug, Harry James Potter aligned himself with his magic, calling upon it to do what he commanded. The rocks on the rug began to float in the air, staying just over where they had been positioned previous, tendrils of magic still holding them in place directly above their focus.

Magica potentia matris testor et redemptio. Mitte animus movetur in principio. Et magicae Utinam liceat mihi, ut melius recta se Haeduorum iniurias vitia corrigere meam praeteritam. Discite benefacere quaerite iudicium meum et familiam ad amoris.

As the chant continued, the walls began to shake with magic. The entire retirement home was vibrating with power, scaring the elderly and the caretakers alike. Harry couldn't hear the pounding on his door, nor could he sense the chaos he was causing. He was so engrossed in his magic that he had detached himself from the real world.

Just as his door was broken open and security, who saw the most glorious sight of a man hovering in the air with magic and energy spinning around him like a star system, he dropped to the ground, his body flopping lazily to the glowing rug, lifeless, his eyes dead before he even hit the ground.

However, as the security checked over the dead man, as well as the strange power he just channeled through the whole building, something else occurred. In a different time, a screaming man, who drooled and yelled insanely, suddenly stopped his daily actions, his once manic brown eyes changing into intelligent and powerful green.


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay! I was not expecting the amount of support for this story to be so big right out the gate. Already of 80 alerts and 50 favs. Thank you all for the support. I pushed this chapter out a bit earlier than I was planning to, but I'm happy with the outcome. Hope you guys enjoy my works so far.**

**PS: To those of you who are pushing for a pairing already, remember that you don't even know what time period. For all you know, your offered ship couldn't even be born yet, or they might be really young. Just hold off until I reveal the time period.**

**Anyway, onto the story!**

***I own nothing, only my ideas, but I can't copyright those either.***

**Chapter 2: Time Spent Alone**

-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-

Harry James Potter felt his mind fight with the one currently possessing the body he attempted to take. It was wild and energetic, trying to lash out against him and the bit of magic that he sent back with himself. No matter how frantically it tried to overpower him, it was just too weak, its will and direction not having enough power to strike against the strengthened and intelligent mind that was his own. After a few more minutes of internal combat, which was only a second in the real world, the mind of the once manic man was gone, leaving behind its weakened body to the new possessor. As it did so, Harry's remaining magic seemed to affect the body the slightest bit, giving it his familiar green eyes, not that he had a mirror to see.

The once old man stayed absolutely still, his new body now laying flat on the floor. He could feel his control slowly overtake everything, down to the tips of his fingers and the tips of his toes, which was quite the unusual feeling after being handicapped for so long. Cracking open his eyes, the powerful emeralds shined in the nonexistent light of the room. However, as he used his peripherals to look around, he was in no room.

Rather a cage. Or a cell was perhaps a better word.

Finally getting access to his senses, Harry realized that he was surrounded in wild screams and desperate pleas, the cold on his back from the icy stone floor and the pains of hunger in his stomach. The tingling of chill running through his hands and around his legs. This was not what he was expecting when he sent his mind back in time, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

"*sigh* Just my luck." He stated in a voice unfamiliar to himself, more young but grated, most likely from all the screaming of the old owner. It was not as baritone as his old voice, but it was better than nothing.

Suddenly a cold feeling settled over him, painful memories trying to peak into his mind, but he pushed them down with his mental shields. Casting a glance to his side, he came across a unhappy sight.

"Yes. Just my luck." He stated breathily as several dementors descended on him.

-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-

It was twenty minutes later when the dementors finally gave up on him, not able to use their soul sucking powers to break through his barriers and tear into his delicious memories. Harry didn't even know that such a thing was possible, but his shields were so strong that they could not get to what they desired. That was useful information for the future.

Picking himself off the ground, Harry felt his new hair droop down his back, being much too long for comfort. He could probably find something to cut it with later. Looking around at where he was, it was safe to say that he was in Azkaban, what with all the terrified screeching and the dementors enjoying their meals every day. Looking down at himself, he felt a bit of despair. His new body was unfamiliar, as well as gaunt, weak, and disconnected. Trying to place his feet on the ground, he stumbled, his legs not having the strength and his mind not having the familiarity of walking.

This may take a while to get used to.

-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-

It was not how Harry wanted to spend his first month in the past, at least he hoped it was the past, but it was necessary time.

The first problems he learned was that he had to reteach himself to walk, which was not enjoyable in the slightest, especially with the lack of strength in his body. He had to take literal baby steps, but if there was one thing his years of experience taught him, it was patience and a control of his emotions.

The second was his current position. He was in Azkaban, the hardest place to break into and out of in the Wizarding World, unless you were insane like his Uncle or his arch enemy. While he could take a note out of Padfoot's book, that was another problem.

His body did not have the same magical core as before. It was so much smaller than his old one, which could have been a vast ocean compared to the lake he had now. His mind's skills were still strong from his old life, like his Occulemency, but his access to wandless magic would never be what it used to. Such a shame, as he really did love wandless magic after his wand was snapped.

He needed to connect with his new core as well, which was proving difficult, as it was manic and aggressive, much like the mind. Then again, the two usually match in the same person. He had to make it his own, either through submission or through connection, and the former usually ended badly on his part.

After gaining control of his walking within his two weeks in Azkaban, and another two focusing on straightening his body with what little food he could get and exercise he could get, Harry felt himself prepared to connect. He had spent the month whittling away at the core's insanity, easing the power into a more relaxed form, which was quite easy compared to his old magic. It was like training a puppy after spending his whole life taming a dragon.

Crossing his legs, Harry placed himself on the cold floor once more, which was only the lightest bit warmer by the thin threadbare blanket he placed over it. Disconnecting himself from the physical world, from the icy frigidness on his hands to the screams of insanity, Harry descended into his body's magic. Opening his inner eye, not like the trash Trelawney taught, a true internal eye of his magic, Harry looked around at the darkened area, not seeing much like usual. At least there were not tendrils of manic magic trying to kill him anymore.

Placing his feet on the surface of nothing, he began to walk around, playing what could be considered a game of hot and cold with the magic. Looking up, he could see high above was his mind, a shining tower of white and ivory surrounded with magical barriers and high standing walls, practically radiating with the knowledge and time of his old age.

Looking forward again, Harry felt the energy grow stronger, but it was still unseen, as if it was hiding from him. He could feel it growing stronger, but it was still not showing itself. He would find it soon.

It was then that Harry felt a cold energy crawl over him. Almost cursing at the situation, Harry wondered if he had enough time to find the core before dementors tried to attack his mind again. However, the feeling grew much colder, much more than ever before. It was reminiscent to that time he faced dozens of them in his third year at Hogwarts. Harry dropped to the floor of the astral plain, the pain slamming into him.

Opening his eyes and ignoring the pain, he could see the outer walls of his mind be impacted by a malignant force, trying to weasel their way into the cracks, which sealed themselves up by his command. However, it wasn't long until another assault hit him, this time much stronger, managing to knock away at his primary outer defense and make their way to his secondary walls.

This attack was much stronger than any previous assaults. While his mind was quite powerful, he could not take on this many dementors with just his mind alone. He needed his core.

Standing back up, Harry began to look around rapidly, searching left and right for his core. Another blast tore his concentration for a moment, but he continued to mentally multitask, repairing what damage that he could while searching for the core. Feeling a tendril of magic, he ran in its direction following it as far as he could before another blast of cold and raw power slammed into his mind. That was his secondary shield.

Looking around, he managed to catch a glimpse of something, off in the distance, but no less alarming. Running towards it, he continued to ignore the pangs of pain on his mind, which were making quick work of his tertiary defenses.

He was down to his last barriers, which were also his strongest, but it didn't feel like the dementors were ready to give in. They seemed to have taken an interest in him, most likely because of the vast amounts of memories his mind contained. Running forward, Harry arrived at the core, which was not very big, and was cold and dark from disuse. Reaching out his hand, he winced in pain as a tendril of magic grabbed him around the wrist. Instead of fighting, he relaxed, showing the magic he meant it no harm, but it was not too convinced, what with him taking it's original owner's body.

He closed his eyes, fighting off the desperation that wanted to peak in his emotions. He was down to his last defenses and they were being picked and knocked away by the vast amount of soul sucking power just outside his mind.

Reaching his second hand out, he felt the magic do the same to the other wrist. Slowly breathing in and out, he grabbed the magic tendrils that were around his wrists and let his emotions and intent flow, persuading, pleading for the magic to understand his reasoning. Why he took the body and what become of them if he did not do something fast about the dementors. He felt it slip around his arms, grabbing him whole, before it pulled him in. Not expecting this, he tensed up, but he tried to relax. He could feel the last of his great defenses begin to fall, but he couldn't give up now. The magic surrounded him now, judging him, looking him over.

In his mind's eye, he had his original look back, not the frail body that he now had. He was strong, fit, and young. His emerald eyes shined in the water like environment and his rats nest of hair floated around aimlessly. It searched him for his purpose, and check him over not only in compatibility, but in worth and power.

The last of Harry's walls fell and he could feel the power of the dementors charge straight for the library of his mind's memories. One last plea before the dementors reduced him to a mess of frantic mutterings and insanity, just like it's old owner.

The magic decided.

-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-

Harry opened his eyes, staring at the horde of dementors that surrounded him, all of which were trying to feed off of him and tear away at his mind. Taking a deep breath in, he felt the magic, eager to be used, bubble under his skin. It wasn't alot but it was more than what he needed.

"Expecto Patronum!"

A blast of white magic left the palms of his hand, blasting away the dementors and forcing them to scurry away. As soon as the magic left his hand, Harry felt their assault on his mind end, just before they reached his mind's memories. Sighing in relief, he wasted no time in building up his walls once more, taking his time to reinforce them and make them as strong, if not stronger, than before. He never wanted to be in a situation like that again.

After a few hours of that, Harry thought about his new core, which seemed to enjoy being used again. Thinking about his spell, he knew that he had the intent and focus, but it seemed he could no longer make it corporeal wandlessly. Another shame. At least he had enough magic, even if it was built up from disuse, to blast away the dementors from ravishing his mind.

It was the next few weeks that Harry spent focusing on his magical core, which was weak and small compared to his old one. Despite that, he seemed to make an agreement with it. It was like an eager child, wanting to be of use and have fun. Then again, that might be because of how powerful he used to be and how strong he was mentally.

In his weeks of training, he learned that he could still use wandless magic, just not a lot, only a few things here and there before he needed to charge up again. The second was that his core's magic was not grey like it used to be. It was more leaning dark, but no where near dark enough to not use a patronus thank goodness. The last was actually very welcome news.

He could still use his animagus form.

Transforming was much slower and careful , what with having to be careful with the little magic he had, but it was still doable. The best part was, now that he could walk again, so could his panther form, which lost the ability to use its hind legs after his did. It was a total time of two and a half months in Azkaban before he was ready, but Harry had a plan to get out. He knew the very sparse and almost nonexistent patrols of wizard guards, he knew when he was fed and when the dementors liked to arrive, and using his memories of Padfoot's tales of his escape, he knew where the best way to escape from was when you were in the lower/lowest levels of the prison.

He just hoped that Padfoot had not escaped yet in this time period, or his plan would be ruined.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello readers, I'm back with another chapter, prepared to help further explain what is going on in the story as well as what has happened since Harry has traveled back in time. To those who question what is going on, don't worry, this chapter will help explain some of the questions one may have about it.**

**Anyway, lets get down into it and let you read this chapter!**

***I own nothing, only my ideas, but I can't copyright those either.***

**Chapter 3: Deal or No Deal**

**-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-**

The bustle of Diagon Alley was slowed in the frigid evening of the day, with people doing their last minute shopping or heading to darker parts of the area before stores close.

There were only a few people still moving about, most of which heading towards the Leaky Cauldron or to a local floo to go home and spend time with their friends or families.

"Hey! Watch where you're going!" A man yelled at a downed figure whom he tripped over. Said figure stood back up, the paper he drew from the ground now firmly in his hands before he turned away from the other person. He ignored the shouting man's outrage and shouting as he passed into the opening between two buildings.

Sighing and sagging his body against the wall of the alley, the man pulled the newspaper up to his face and looked it over. A simple report about the Boy-Who-Lived's latest book, as well as a reporter's alleged interview with him. "What rubbish." The man stated distastefully. "I'm still at the Dursley's probably cleaning up after my Uncle and Aunt." He cast one more glance at the date before throwing the paper on the ground.

Peering around the alley, he noticed the man he disturbed was gone, as well as any onlookers. Pulling the rag over his head, he made his way down Diagon, the last of they evening's light fading behind the buildings. Walking towards his goal, making sure to avoid running into more people, he stumbled his way sluggishly towards a gleaming white building, which seemed to stand high above anything else in the area. Walking past the diminutive guards of the building, who gave him not so happy glares, he entered the bank, which he knew never closed.

Walking up to the head counter, he could tell that he was likely to be thrown out by his appearance at any moment, the individuals in the room most likely thinking him a beggar or a thief.

"What do you want?" The goblin sneered at him. "If you are here for a loan a form of assistance, you will have to look elsewhere."

^^May your gold forever flow, like the blood of your enemies.^^ The hooded figure whispered out. The goblins who heard him, including the several guards sneaking up on him, were frozen in surprise. ^^Sir Teller,^^ The man began again. ^^I wish to speak to King Ragnok, as by an offer of knowledge and future wealth.^^ The man looked up at the goblin with emerald green eyes, finding nothing but shock written all over the goblin's face.

^^You speak our language?^^ The teller asked, to which the ragged man nodded.

^^I learned it long ago, as a way to speak with those I consider friends.^^ Understanding what the man was insinuating, the goblin nodded and gestured his hand to the guards, who shook off their surprise and walked back to their positions. Beckoning another goblin over to him, the teller brought the other's ear close and whispered to him. The other goblin nodded and left.

^^I will see if my King is willing to speak with you. While you wait, follow me.^^ The teller stood up and walked his way down from his desk, walking towards an impressive set of golden double doors. Following behind, the ragged man followed quietly, making sure to stay close yet keep his appropriate distance from the teller. He knew how much they cared for their space and privacy, especially with the way he looked.

Following the goblin to a comfortable looking room, which was situated behind a thick oak door, the ragged looking man sat down, his eyes immediately drawn to the small assortment of food on the table. ^^I have not eaten in three days. May I please have some of the food provided?^^ He asked the goblin, who was surprised by the question. Most wizards didn't ask, but then again, most wizards didn't speak Gobbledygook.

^^You may. If you need more to eat, I will request it, so long as you make an exchange." The ragged man nodded. Money. And thought he didn't have money, he had plenty of knowledge, which could be worth quite a lot more.

Harry quietly ate, savoring the tea and biscuits, as well as the small assortments of fruits, grains, and bread. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough to satisfy his small stomach. As he finished off the last of the grapes on the tray, a goblin entered the small waiting room, dressed in a prim and proper three piece suit lined with silver embroidery. "The King will speak to you now, wizard." The goblin bit out gruffly. The raggedly dressed man smiled, pushing himself from his seat and nodding to the smaller figure.

^^Thank You, Sir Goblin^^ He stated, to which the goblin's beady eyes widened with shock before he shook himself for composure and led the tall figure to the back of Gringotts. Many goblins gave him a pointed look or gestured to his horrible clothes, but Harry cared little for that, instead focusing on the upcoming task at hand.

As the great golden doors opened up, Harry felt his determination grow that much larger. This was it. The room was expansive, most likely expanded by magic, with the walls being painted and decorated with giant mosaics and art pieces of goblins fighting, either against humans or against themselves. Binns would be drooling at the sight, if ghosts could drool. The ceiling was also decorated, much like the Sistine Chapel. Each area was designed with a different figure in the center, all of them wearing the same crown. There were also blank spots in the ceiling, as if it was still in the works.

Looking towards the front of the room, centered at the far side of the wall stood a beautiful throne, the stone work of bodies laying underneath it, the top finished in glowing ivory and goblin gold. There sat the King, Ragnok.

^^Here he is, My King. The one who wished to speak with you.^^ The suited goblin stated, bowing before his leader. The goblin looked over the man, his eyes squinting as he looked over the poorly dressed and horribly smelling human. ^^This is the human? He looks more like filth than he does a man.^^ Harry smiled.

^^I apologize for my poor clothing. Had I something else to wear, I would have gladly done so and changed.^^ The goblin king's eyes widened a fraction before a grizzly smile made its way to his face.

^^Ahh, so you do speak our tongue.^^ Harry nodded.

^^I do, but there is more important things at hand than my ability to speak your language. I wish to make a deal with you, King Ragnok. Would you allow me to explain in English?^^ Harry asked, looking up at the goblin with powerful and enchanting green eyes. The goblin king nodded, allowing for Harry to continue. "Please interrupt me so you need to whilst I explain. You see, I come from somewhere different from yourselves, and I do not mean different as to Wizarding Britain verses the mines of the Goblin Nation, nor do I mean France verses England. I come from a different time."

"You used a time turner? While I would love nothing more than to make a deal with someone with future knowledge, your time in this time period will most likely end before you can finish speaking." Ragnok stated, disappointed at the fact that this 'deal' was too good to be true.

"I did not come here with a time turner, nor did I send myself back in time. I only did so with my mind." Seeing the confused look on the goblin king's face, Harry explained. "Using years of research and the study of runic gemstones and magic artifacts, I learned that there are certain attributes to certain stones and crystals when magic is applied to them. Amethyst can conduct arcana magic as a focus, rubies are useful for medical spells and healing, garnets and malachite for electrical inhibition for technology and magic to coexist. However, you already know this, but don't bother to tell wizards because they would just use it against you.

"There is something else I learned. If used in certain ways, these properties can be erased and overlapped with other properties, much like creating a network with a singular purpose. In doing so, someone can send magic to a location, to a person, to a different time, which is what I did, but not just with my magic. After spending years searching, I managed to find the last piece of what I needed, a piece of Nicholas Flamel's philosopher's stone."

"A piece?" The king asked, himself as well as the other goblins in the room very intrigued in his wizard's story. Harry nodded to the questioning statement.

"The stone was destroyed in my time, and will come be destroyed in your time as well, as I am from the same timeline, just later on. To continue my story, using the piece of the philosopher's stone, which can create the elixir of life when whole, I surrounded my mind in a protective layer of magic, which preserved my mind. With the dozens of stones, as well as my system of networking runes, I sent my mind back in time, landing in a body that had the weakest will and mind. Which so happened to be a prisoner of Azkaban."

The goblins all stared at the ragged looking man with shock. "You created a spell that allows someone to send their mind back in time, hijack the body of another, and live in that person's place, blood and all?" Harry could see where this was going.

"If you are fearful of people stealing other people's bodies and taking the money in their vaults, I will tell you that only I have done this spell, as I am the one to create it, and that knowledge is safely stored in my mind. The runes broke themselves down immediately after my travel back so nobody could follow me, let alone copy my work. If I complete what I set out to do in this time period, then I will never need to create it in my own time." The goblin king nodded.

While he could make a pretty penny off the man's head, giving him back to the Ministry, better dead that alive with his knowledge, the wizard was possibly worth much more alive than dead if he played his cards right. "How do you prove you are from the future? Your story is convincing, but what evidence do you have?" Harry nodded.

"I figured you would ask that, so I have some evidence. For one, there is a small company in the United States of America by the name of Apple. Yes, a ridiculous name, and they are weak right now. However, they grow to be one of the biggest companies in the muggle world. While I know you usually stay out of the muggle world, I suggest you invest." The goblin king nodded, several of his scribes noting that information. "Another, which is more relevant, is that the Wizengomot will be passing a law in the coming weeks, allowing for magical guardians to take funds from their charge's vaults. I suggest you do not allow that, as a man you may know of, Albus Dumbledore, will immediately be able to access the monies of dozens of vaults. As you already know, the Headmaster of Hogwarts becomes the magical guardian of every child that does not have one, much like Muggleborns, orphans from the war, and families that have died out that never claimed a new magical guardian before they were extinguished." The last one was only one family, which was a pureblood orphan from Grindlewald's years who died trying to serve Voldemort, but it was still worth noting.

"I have heard of this bill several times, and they have never gotten it past before under my watch." The King stated angrily.

"But they do in May of 1988. I should know, as it's the month that the transactions began of Dumbledore into my accounts. While not massive, the fact that he got into them was an outrage." Harry stated evenly. Had he been one hundred years younger, he would probably be screaming by now. "And it will completely circumnavigate the laws set up by families that your banks provides for, including the laws that families that fully die out hand over a part of their assets to Gringotts. I suggest you cut it off before it gets through, and make sure to read the fine print of it, unlike the many members of the Wizengamot who signed off on it." The goblin king grit his teeth, but nodded nonetheless.

"We will look into this. If you are right , and they are in the process of getting this law passed, then I will believe you. However, I heard at the beginning that you had a deal you would like to make with me?"

Yes, worth much more alive than dead.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey! I know I haven't posted in a while. I'm sorry, but more important matters were at stake, so I had to put those as a priority.**

**Anywho! I am here with a new chapter. I am not going to ramble, so I will jump right into it.**

***I own nothing, only my ideas, but I can't copyright those either.***

**Chapter 4: New Face and Name**

-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-

In the coming months, many things happened with Harry Potter. Or perhaps Alexander Hawthorn would be better.

After making his deal with the King, Harry was taken to get a blood test done, where he learned that he was actually from a small Pureblood family, one that was almost eradicated during the war. His name was originally Seth Gragson, age 27, him being the last of his line. In an agreement to get the goblins off his back about line theft, Alex allowed them to keep all the family's assets, which placated them quite a bit. After learning of who he originally was, Alex learned that his reason for going to Azkaban was for killing several muggles in an attempt to impress Voldemort into allowing him to be a servant. It was quite fortunate that he was captured and imprisoned before he was marked, as Alex did not want that disgusting thing on his arm.

After going over his features, Alex had his face changed via potion. His stringy long brown hair was cut and changed into a soft black, thinner than his old rats nest and a shade darker. Rather than the simple black it was, it was more reminiscent to to obsidian, a slight gloss to it, but luckily nothing like the gloss of a certain greasy bat. It now framed his face quite well, reaching to his shoulders.

Speaking of his face, he had that changed along with his hair. While Gragson's features were not terrible, he needed to change them so that people did not connect the two. So his angular face was morphed as well by the goblins. Another thing they hid from the knowledge of wizards, not that many asked about.

His face was now more aristocratic, his features not so prevalent anymore and his cheekbones softened, yet still high on his face. While he still looked gaunt, that was due to the lack of nutrition, another thing that was fixed in the coming months. His eyes were not changed however, as his eyes had changed when he took over the body. While he had the same eyes as Harry Potter, there was little else that matched about them. That was a good thing.

Alex was quick to make himself useful under his agreement with the goblins, teaching their other wizard workers about runes that would be useful for Gringotts, as well as going over properties of stones and magics with goblins in Gobbledygook.

While he knew he shouldn't mess with the future too much so soon, Alex was eventually pressured into telling the goblins about other companies that would be good to invest in. No matter what time line, goblins never changed, as did their appetite to expand their troves of gold. It was this reason that the goblins interrupted the Wizengamot meeting about the new bill proposed by Dumbledore, making quick work to tear apart and break up the document he had written regarding the rights of magical guardians in their charge's lives.

After being told about what had happened and how upset Albus had gotten, Alex had had a good laugh with King Ragnok, much to many goblin's surprise that their leader didn't kill the human for acting like an equal to him.

As per the agreement, Alex Hawthorn would be given a full face change, new name, full backstory, and payments for his endeavors at Gringotts, if he worked for Ragnok and Gringotts tirelessly for six months, teaching goblins and wizards what Gringotts needed, provided information about the future when it involved the goblin nation and any other necessary information, and gave up the treasuries of the Gragson family.

His new core took some getting used to, having to play with it in a much more conservative manner than before because of its small size. However, it was like a neglected puppy, simply happy to be used and have the experience of being in action. Over those months of retraining, he felt himself become more connected with not only his core, but his body as well, which he became accustom to despite its slight differences to his old one.

Now, Alexander had a name, money, magic, and all the knowledge he needed to continue in his next objective. As well as a friendship and some common ground with the goblins of the bank.

-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-

"Ms Bones, your six o'clock appointment is here." A tired woman sighed, rubbing her forehead and wondering how much work she could finish today before she headed home. It was like the Minister loved messing up his job.

"Please send them in." She stated curtly, her assistant nodding and walking out of the room. With the few moments she had before her next appointment, the overworked woman went over the latest documents that she received from the Ministry. Yet another bill regarding how those with a dark mark were trialed unfairly, no doubt sent up by Malfoy or someone in his circle. Despite that, it had no name, so pinning it on him would only make her the fool. Stamping the paper with a disapproval, she placed it in her pile of completed work and went to the next one. Another one. It was like they were hoping she would skip one at the end of the day and it would slip by.

"Ms Bones?" Looking up from her desk of work, she found herself staring up at a youngish looking gentleman. "May I come in?" He asked, to which she nodded her head in confirmation. He had jet black hair and glowing green eyes, his features elegant, but not too strong or rigid. He stepped into her office, his eyes glossing over everything in her room in one action. Quite the observant one, this one was she presumed.

"Good evening, Ms Bones." The man stated with a soft, but noticeable American accent. "My name is Alexander Hawthorn. I sent a letter to you a week ago in regards to my meeting with you." Ms Bones nodded, shaking the hand the young man offered up.

"Sadly, I did not read it. I was only told by my assistant that you requested a meeting with me. I am a bit busy at the moment. For that, I apologize." She stated bitterly, not happy about her workload at the moment.

The young man chuckled. "Clearly you are more than a bit busy. I would love to leave you to your work and come a different time, but I have something that worries me about a relative." Amelia nodded, gesturing to the chair across from her. The man sat down slowly, as if his bones were made of glass and he did not want to break. He looked up at her and his eyes seemed to narrow into hers. "You see Ms Bones, I recently found out that my family came from a line here in Britain. With my family passed from sickness and poor decisions, I didn't have very many placed to turn to. After doing a bit a of research on my family, as well as some help from the United States branch of Gringotts, I learned that my family branched off a long time ago from a family known as the Blacks." Amelia's eyelids popped up the slightest bit. She was interested.

"I did some looking into my family before I came here, only to learn that most of my family would not have supported my family's life choices."

"You are a Halfblood I'm guessing?" Sh asked, to which Alexander nodded his head.

"I know who Volde- sorry, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, is as his actions caused a bit of a rouse in the the U.S. as well. While I would love to meet a distant cousin, from what I've read about, I don't think that Bellatrix or Narcissa would be glad to meet me." Alemia nodded to that assessment as Alex chuckled a bit.

"I must ask Mr Hawthorn. How closely related to the Black family are you?" Alexander's smile faltered a little bit.

"Well, not a whole lot actually. I barely connect with them in any sense, only one of my family members having a connection with them, and that was from a long time ago." Thank goodness for Wizarding Britain's inbreeding problem Alexander thought. "However, that doesn't mean that I can't meet them, even once to learn more about them." The young man's cheery disposition suddenly shifted.

"However, while I was searching into a woman by the name of Andromeda, there was another person that intrigued me. Apparently by the name of Sirius Black." Amelia narrowed his eyes at him.

"I found out he was imprisoned for the murder of several No Majs, which was a total turn away, as my mother was a No Maj Descendant. I was still curious however and looked into his trial, only to not find one on record. I know that things can be a bit different here in the UK, but why was his the only one not released to the public?" Alex asked, his questioning gaze hitting Amelia.

Amelia herself tried to recall the trial of Sirius Black, as she couldn't forget the trials of many death eaters during the end of the war. However, as she stared back at the young an before her, she couldn't seem to remember his. Then again, it has been a long day. Leaning back into her chair with a sigh, Amelia Bones looked at the man across from her. "I understand you are concerned about your very distant family, but I do not have time for this Mr Hawthorn. I have many other things to worry about other than the lack of public knowledge regarding the most dangerous people in Wizarding Britain. I ask that you please leave me to my work. I apologize that you came all the way to England for this, but I have much more to work on." She stated tersely, her growing exhaustion and stress getting the better of her in the situation.

The young man stared at her for a moment before he stood up, fixing his jacket and tie before bowing his head to her. "Have a good day Ms Bones." He stated kindly. As he made it to her door, clicking it open, he level one more glance towards her. "If you would, could you at least send me the trial information, even a confirmation. I will be staying in Britain for the next few months in search of a job." Amelia nodded, to which the young man closed the door softly.

Sighing into her work, Amelia picked up the next document and looked it over. 'Well, it wouldn't take too long to ease that boy's concerns. I just have to go to the archives and pull up the paper. At least it's not like that boy is the minister, practically handing me all his work for the week.' He thought to herself, going over the next attempt to go around her authority and stamping it with a disprove stamp.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello all! I have brought another chapter. I don't really have much to say, other than to hope that you enjoy this chapter. I don't mean for this to seemed rushed in any way, so please tell me if you feel like it is. The freedom of Sirius is a huge attack on Dumbledore's pedestal of power, and another block away from Harry being his martyr.**

**Anywho, I will just get into the story. Leave a review and add yourself to the alerts of the story!**

***I own nothing, only my ideas, but I can't copyright those either.***

-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-

_Last time: _

_The young man stared at her for a moment before he stood up, fixing his jacket and tie before bowing his head to her. "Have a good day Ms Bones." He stated kindly. As he made it to her door, clicking it open, he level one more glance towards her. "If you would, could you at least send me the trial information, even a confirmation. I will be staying in Britain for the next few months in search of a job." Amelia nodded, to which the young man closed the door softly._

_Sighing into her work, Amelia picked up the next document and looked it over. 'Well, it wouldn't take too long to ease that boy's concerns. I just have to go to the archives and pull up the paper. At least it's not like that boy is the minister, practically handing me all his work for the week.' He thought to herself, going over the next attempt to go around her authority and stamping it with a disprove stamp._

_-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-_

**Chapter 5: Trials for the Free**

It was two days later when Alex received a letter from Amelia Bones, stating that there was no trial on record, and that she was investigating the matter. It was four when she sent a second reply, stating how Sirius Black never received a trial, and it was two weeks later when she finally brought this to the attention of the Wizengamot. Alex wished that he could claim one of his old seats in the Ministry, just to see what was going to happen at the trial of his once Uncle Padfoot.

He was currently at Gringotts, 'happening' to get a job after applying for their positions in warding, healing, and runes. He was currently stationed in their mines, helping deal with any injuries that the goblins might receive while in the mines or dealing with the dragon, helping go over tomes and items of ancient descent in order to help the Bank decide how much they were worth, and helping to ward and upgrade the defenses at the Bank. The goblins might hate receiving help from a lowly wizard, but by Ragnok's orders, they put up with him, especially with how he was helping secure their defenses and protect their gold.

While Alexander Hawthorn worked there, making money to afford his living expenses, something much different was occurring in the Wizengamot session that Amelia Bones was attending.

"Order, the Wizengamot is now in session." Chief Warlock Dumbledore stated powerfully, getting everyone's attention and silence.

"Thank you, Dumbledore." Minister Fudge said as he looked around at the room full of high standing wizards. "To begin this session, I would like to bring attention to a new bill that has been proposed, regarding the placement of Muggleborns into Ministry jobs. As most of you know, the Ministry..." The Minister began to talk about how Muggleborns were not accustom to society, and would be unable to complete certain tasks in the Ministry like a Halfblood, or better, a Pureblood would. Several other topics came up, usually things that enticed the almost fully pureblood Wizengamot. Despite how much they seemed to support muggleborns on the outside, it was clear to a few individuals in the room that all parties, whether Light or Dark, seemed to be agree on the same systems. Some out of distaste for lesser blood, others out of 'protecting them from failure'. It was enough to make some sneer at the machinations of the magical government. It was as the session reach its halfway point that Amelia, having had enough on the topic of obliviation regarding muggleborn relatives, made her case.

"Before the next bill is completely addressed, I would like to go over a great injustice that occurred in our Ministry, under all of our noses no less." That caused a few muttering in the building, many surprised that Amelia Bones has made a statement like this.

"Ms Bones, I am surprised that you have something to add, though I don't know what you mean by a great injustice." The Minister said a bit flustered. His eyes darted around, seeming to look for support from others. She mentally sighed at the predictability of the current Minister.

"I will begin at the beginning then. During this time of year, I like to review my cases, new and old, to make sure that everything is airtight in our system. As I went over those imprisoned in Azkaban, I came across an individual who received no trial. " Pulling out her files, she looked over the entire group of wizards, all of them intrigued or interested in some way as to what she was stating.

"After going into this person's information and what happened that night, I must see to it that Sirius Black receive a trial."

The entire Wizengamot exploded with rage, many yelling at Amelia about how terrible Sirius Black was and how he killed his best friend, as well as his connection to helping You-Know-Who find the Potters. Albus Dumbledore eventually brought order to the whole situation, but that did not mean he was no less curious, a level of worry hiding underneath his grandfatherly eyes.

"Amelia, I understand you need for justice, but it was confirmed that Sirius Black was the murderer of his friend Peter Pettigrew, as well as the secret keeper of the Potters, who led He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to them." Alemia nodded.

"I must agree, I understand the evidence placed against this man, however because of my position as the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I must make sure that every person sent to Azkaban receives a trial. If not for the right to trial, then many of our own members of the Wizengamot would be rotting away in the same place." She leveled a glare at Lord Malfoy, as well as several other confirmed death eaters 'by imperius'. "If I do not give every person a right to a trial. If we do not give a right to a trial, then anyone can be sentenced to prison for life without a word." She sent a look towards the Minister. "Does that sound fair?"

The Minister looked around nervously. "I-I suppose that that is fair. Have the guards bring him up from his cell." He did not like it, but if he stood against her now, then she would only continue this campaign outside of the Wizengamot...possibly even discovering more thestrals in the closet and getting her whole department involved. He shivered at the thought, ignoring the 'hems' of his undersecretary.

"Amelia, that man is dangerous." Albus tried one more time as two guards exited the doors and apparated towards the prison. "We cannot allow this session to be hijacked by a man who will no doubt scream about his betrayal of the Potters, the family of the boy that saved our world."

Before his words could build momentum in the crowd, Amelia sighed, standing tall and proud. "Please do not question my reasoning, Chief Warlock. I know that this man may have done terrible things, but it is my job to make sure that all forms of justice are dealt with, even the parts that are not so savory. I would also like to learn what information he has, as he never received a trial, that means he was never interrogated on what he knew about the inner circle." With that, the people on the 'Light' side couldn't help but agree with her, the idea of ousting some death eaters sounding too good to pass up. Albus sat back down, nodding his head in resignation as her orders were issued to bring him in.

As everyone waited for the man who helped murder the Potters, Amelia looked around the room with observant eyes. She watched how in the 'Light' corner of the room, many of the members were none too happy about the sudden statement she made. Many of them would rather they never see the man's face again. She looked over the 'Dark' area to see many looks of indifference, though some of which looked more like they had swallowed one of Dumbledore's lemon drops then anything else. If she could put another death eater away with the possible information Black had, if he was guilty that was, then it was worth it. Maybe even find out who was 'Imperiused' as so many claimed they were. She won in both ways no matter what.

There were many who were muttering amongst themselves and she couldn't help but wonder how this might go. Yes, she could have made this a private incident by speaking to the Minister, but her instincts told her that, like always, he would attempt to cover it up, leaving a man in prison without a trial, especially with the evidence against Black.

A part of her wondered why she was doing this herself, putting her career on the line for an old Auror. Was it because of the Hawthorn character who brought this to her attention? Maybe her own belief in the man's innocence. Sirius was unhinged, but he was loyal to no degree. Him and James were her best Aurors before they all went into hiding. They arrested the most death eaters out of any Auror, more together alongside Frank Longbottom then the rest of her department.

Maybe she just wanted to see the brat one last time, even if it was to see him admit to his own crimes. She couldn't just let the man stay in Azkaban without a trial. Casting one last glance at the Chief Warlock, she couldn't help but wonder why he seemed to adamant about not wanting the man to receive a trial. The venerable man about second chances and redemption.

It was minutes later that a disgusting looking man was dragged up to the Wizengamot in chains, his body sagging under the weight of magic suppressing metals. His hair covered his face, ragged clothing barely washing over his malnourished body. The entire building of Purebloods couldn't help but cringe internally at his horrible appearance.

"Whas goin on." The man muttered out in a gravely voice, to which Amelia walked up to him as they seated him in a horrible steel chair, one equip with latches and locks to hold him down. As the guards sneered at the man, fastening the restraints tightly around his limbs and head, Amelia walked up and stared at him in the eye. Dear Merlin this man looked terrible.

"Sirius Black, it has come to our attention that you received no trial upon your entrance into Azkaban, That will commence now." The man's eyes seemed to glow with a shine of hope, a smile almost making its way to his gaunt face.

"Do you consent to the use of Veritaserum, Mr Black?"

"Yes." He said, nodding his head rapidly, or as rapidly as his stiff bones let him. As soon as that statement was made, a guard pulled his head back by his hair, opening his mouth and forcing a drop of the clear potion down his throat.

Amelia watched as the man's eyes glazed over. "What is your full name?" She watched as his dead eyes seemed to glaze over.

"Sirius Orion Black."

"What is your date of birth?"

"November 3, 1959"

"What is something interesting about your life?"

"In sixth year, it was myself and James who turned all of Hogwarts gold and red, including the Slytherin House's underwear."

That statement caused a small rouse of snickers in the room, some of the member of the session having fond memories of that event, but nobody ever owned up to it, though there were suspicions of who did it. Amelia nodded and turned around to face the wizards in the room, who were still quieting themselves. "Let it be said that the Veritaserum has taken affect, please have this on record via dicta or scribe." Amelia turned back around and looked at Sirius Black.

"Sirius Black, were you there the night the Potters were killed?"

"Yes."

A rouse tried to start up, but Amelia quickly silenced it with a raise of her hand and a glare to the crowd. She wouldn't let a riot destroy justice. Starting back at the deplorable looking man, she continued.

"Did you lead You-Know-Who to the Potters?"

"No." That caused another row, but not out of anger. She nodded to herself.

"Were you their secret keeper?"

"No, it was Wormtail."

The crowd was surprised by the statement. It was common knowledge that Sirius Black was the secret keeper of the Potters. How else did he lead You-Know-Who there?

"Who is Wormtail?" Amelia asked, trying to piece everything together.

"Peter Pettigrew, we called him that because of his animagus form, a rat."

"I see. Do you know who led You-Know-Who to the Potters?"

"Yes."

"Who was it?"

"It was Peter."

The mutterings in the crowd grew stronger, but Amelia continued.

"How did Peter lead You-Know-Who there?"

"Peter was the real secret keeper. I was a decoy to hide him so nobody would go after him. Turns out the rat was a death eater and betrayed us."

Amelia wasn't done yet. She needed to seal his innocence. "Why were you found laughing at the place where Peter Pettigrew and several muggles were killed?"

"After finding out what Peter had done, I had to give Bambi to Hagrid. I gave him my bike and I ran after the rat to catch him. After I caught up with him, I confronted him, only for him to scream that I killed Lily and James, before throwing a cheering charm at me. He launched a reducto to distract me, but it ended up hitting a muggle vehicle full of liquid, blowing up and killing all those muggles. Then I watched as he cut off his finger and transformed into his animagus form. The next thing I remember, I was in a cell."

The room was practically silent now, Amelia staring down at the innocent man who had suffered for many years.

"Who is Bambi?" She asked softly. A tear slid down the ragged man's face.

"Bambi is Harry. He's my godson, I loved him with everything in my heart. I wanted to run away with him, but... I was so mad, and Hagrid said he would take care of him. I'm so sorry Bambi...I'm sorry." The Veritaserum seemed to have run its course, the man's emotions showing through and breaking from the powerful truth serum.

Everyone was completely silent, nobody knowing what to say at the moment. Not only was this man innocent, but he was trying to catch the true betrayer, only to be taken out before he had the chance. Many looked ashamed at the huge miscarry of justice, while others looked a bit upset, not only on the man's part, but by the fact that he was going to be released from prison. Though that was more for Lord Malfoy, who now lost all chances at gaining the Black Vaults.

Looking down at the crying, rugged man, Amelia felt herself grow angry. "Remove those restraints. We do not chain up innocent people." The guards immediately did so, tearing off the chains and unshackling the wrongly accused individual. Through the whole process, he continued to cry softly. "By my authority as the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I hereby decree that Sirius Black be released of all convictions, as well as compensated for his years spent in Azkaban. Those in favor?" The room lit up in a flash of white tipped wands, some more apprehensive than others but nonetheless raised.

She cast a glance at the Chief Warlock one last time, who had his wand raised, but the tip of his wand barely lit. She would have to keep an eye on him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello readers! I'm too lazy to write too much, so I'll just get into the chapter. Less talking, more actual plot to plan.**

***I own nothing, only my ideas, but I can't copyright those either.***

**-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-**

_Last Time:_

_"By my authority as the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I hereby decree that Sirius Black be released of all convictions, as well as compensated for his years spent in Azkaban. Those in favor?" The room lit up in a flash of white tipped wands, some more apprehensive than others but nonetheless raised._

_She cast a glance at the Chief Warlock one last time, who had his wand raised, but the tip of his wand barely lit. She would have to keep an eye on him._

_-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-_

**Chapter 6: Meeting a (Very) Old Friend**

Amelia sighed as she looked over her next document, taking a sip of tea as she read over the contents of the latest reports from her Aurors. Sometimes she wondered if those men knew how to write with a quill, as their calligraphy was worse than a healer's.

"Ms Bones, Lord Black is here to see you." Surprised that she not only didn't notice her assistant pop in, but that Sirius was here, she could only nod as she continued her work, making it look as though she had been aware all along. Her door closed and not much later reopened, but this time to a man with dark black hair and grey eyes.

"Amelia, it's good to see you again." The man barked out, going up to hug the woman, who didn't have much of a choice.

"Sirius, how are you doing since you were removed from your overdue stay." She stated bitterly, which sounded less like disappointment in the Ministry and more like a joke to the tall wizard. "Oh, I'm doing just fine, thanks to you. I thought that I would never get out of there." He stated happily.

The woman looked him over. "You are looking much better since your release." She stated with a bit of surprise. While it had only been three days, the man had already changed quite a bit. Gone was the dirt and muck that once covered his body, now replaced with cleanliness that he probably hadn't experienced since his imprisonment. His once long and unmanageable slimy hair had been trimmed up, now hitting his shoulder blades and being much more soft and controlled. He had removed all his facial hair, as he had to deal with it for the past seven years, no longer. The rags he had once worn were now replaced with proper wizard robes, making the once pitiful man look completely different from before. Well, not completely.

"Despite how much they have done for you, you are still thin as a rail." The Head of Magical Enforcement stated with a deadpanned expression, to which the man barked out a laugh once more. "Well, you can't expect the mediwizards to fix everything in three days. No matter how many nutrition potions they shove down my throat, my body needs to take its time." Amelia nodded at his statement.

"I'm actually quite surprised at how... fluent you are. Most who exit Azkaban, especially where you were, come out screaming and raving madly." The man simply smiled at her.

"Well, that's the thing, I have a few things to discuss with you, and that question actually falls in line with what I had to talk to you about." Sirius took up the seat across from Amelia's desk, plopping down and looking at the no nonsense woman. "To begin, I must thank you for getting me out of there. I had given up hope years ago, so being thrown in that ice cold chair was one of the best days of my life." He said with a bit of sadness, which Ms Bones caught onto.

"I would like to apologize on behalf of the Ministry once more. That should have never happened to you, and I intend to find out who allowed that to happen." She looked across into the man's haunted grey eyes. "While the Ministry paid you a handsome sum for the trouble we placed you in, I still believe it is not enough." The man shook his head.

"Don't go off and make yourself feel bad about it. It was the whole Ministry, or someone else in the Ministry. You were the one to get me out, so you shouldn't feel bad. You're the one that actually did something for me." Amelia smiled at the slightly crazed man.

"Actually, I can't take that credit, I only found out about the miscarriage of justice after someone came to me about it. He looked into your trial, or should I say a lack of one, and came to me to discuss it. In fact, he is apparently one of your distant cousins from the States, and was trying to get into contact with Blacks in Wizarding Britain."

Sirius looked at Amelia with shock. "A cousin? Who is he, what's his name?" The eager and excited man asked.

"His name is Alexander Hawthorn, and he is currently staying at the Leaky Cauldron while working at Gringotts, at least that is what he told me from his last letter. If you would like, I can contact him for you, maybe help you two meet." The man nodded, excited at the idea of meeting the man who indirectly saved his life.

"Before you go and run off to find him, please tell me what you needed to talk about." Pulled from his thoughts on what the man may look like and what he was like, Sirius refocused on Amelia with a bit of embarrassment.

"Right, sorry. First off, I think it would be best to get myself registered as an animagus." Amelia gave the man a pointed look. "You see, when me, James, Remus, and...Wormtail, were in school we all learned how to be animagus. James was a Stag, Remus was a... well a variant of a wolf, and I was a black grimm. We didn't use it often, other than for a certain event that happened sometimes at school, but we didn't want to just release that information, especially with the bustle of the war." Amelia nodded to the man's confession.

"There is usually a fee for registering and a fine or prison time for withholding such information, but I will waive those in light of your situation, both old and new. I can get you the forms, but it is up to you to fill it out. Once it's done, that information will become public." Sirius nodded, already knowing that part.

"Alright, next on the list, I want to get custody of my godson."

-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-

When Alexander received letter from Amelia Bones regarding Sirius Black wanting to meet him, he couldn't help but be a little bit lighter that day. He quickly replied to the woman's message, sending a message back about times when he would love to meet the man, or in his case, re-meet the man.

It's been six days since the release of Sirius Black and finally the public gossip was dying down, much to Alex's relief. The Leaky Cauldron was a continuous stream of people going on about Sirius being guilty or how the man was tricking everyone.

Walking down Diagon Alley, the young man made his way down the walkway, the sun shining high and the day feeling bright. Walking past Gringotts, Alex went down the walkway to a different district of the Alley. He listened in on the excited mutterings of children about the latest broom, or the Quidditch teams who were winning this season. Shaking his head at the youth, he continued to his location, the scenery changing as he walked further down the path.

Eventually stopping at his desired spot, Alexander walked into a quint little place called "The Enchanted Cherry." Looking around at the softly lit room, the top opened up to allow a more natural light into the restaurant.

"Hello sir, do you have a reservation?" A young witch asked, looking him up and down. Alex ignored it for now and simply nodded. "Yes, a table for two, under the name Hawthorn." Being led by the waitress the the side of the room, where light hit around the table, yet left it private, Alex sat down slowly, looking around in the room. He turned down the offer to order drinks, wanting to wait for his guest to arrive.

It wasn't long until a certain individual walk into the building that Alex lost himself in the memories of old. It didn't help when said man was pointed in his direction and made his was over to Alex. Said man had black hair, but instead of the shaggy appearance it held before, it was now drawn back with straightened out into soft layers. His once deary and hopeless eyes were filled with a new light, one that Alex had never seen in them before. His face was still sunken in from his years at Azkaban, but there was a glow to him. His facial hair was all done away with, showing off a tired, but no less young face to the world. Despite his dead looking skin, he was alive. Where his once dear godfather wore his old clothing, or hand-me-downs of others from his family, this man wore brand new dress robes, ones that not only hid the damage of Azkaban, but made him look like a Lord.

Despite all those differences, he was still a cheery Sirius Black.

Standing up to meet the man, Alex reached a hand out, only to get a pair of hands hugging him around the waist and squeezing him as tightly as the weak arms could muster. Though is was an embarrassing first impression, he was no less happy to see the man. Hugging the man back, taking a moment to glance around at any onlookers, Alex pulled himself from the hug and smiled at the newly released Black.

"I suppose greetings are to be issued, but then again, your way seems a bit more affectionate." Alex said with a soft smiled back, a small chuckle escaping his lips. "You probably already know my name, but as common courtesy, my name is Alexander Hawthorn, but you are free to call me Alex." Alex stuck his hand out once again, which was taken up this time by the other man. "Sirius Black, recently out of Azkaban and ready to face the world." Alex chucked at the statement. Sirius wasn't the only one in that boat.

Gesturing for the man to sit, Alex was quick to start a small conversation with Sirius, and just like he had hoped, the other man was quick to start talking. Sirius Black began to tell Alex of his family, mostly what he thought of them, before he broke off into his Hogwarts days in an attempt to wow the Yanky. Just watching the other man speak was quite exhausting, as he moved his arms back and forth, speaking sometimes slowly and other times quickly. That didn't affect the green eyed man though. Alex had many years of patience, dealing with screaming wives and entitled children. Being able to spend time with an animated Sirius beat any of that by a landslide.

"And that was how me and Prongs taught Bambi how to set off a paint bomb!" The grey eyed man finished, laughing to himself, with Alex nodding and smiling along. However, the cheery laughter of the animated man quickly diminished, much to Alex's wonder. "Sirius, are you alright?"

"Yeah...It's just...Bambi, James' son. Merlin I miss the little boy! I want to see him, to take him and bring him home, wherever he might be. I already asked Amelia about him, but she says that she can't do anything until she finds out where he was placed and who took over guardianship of him." Alex placed a hand over Sirius'.

"I'm sure that you'll find him. He can't have just fallen off the edge of the map. It most likely that wherever he was placed he is still there." Alex smiled at the other man. "And judging by the stories you've told me, you care quite a bit about this child." Sirius nodded.

"Even though he was just a babe, to find out that I would be his godfather was the biggest joy in my life. I had a family again, and Bambi was what made me a part of it. Now he's been Merlin knows where for seven years and I've been spending time in Azkaban. I have to find him, and who has him." The man said, almost frantically. Alex reached over and placed a calming hand on the man's tense shoulder.

"If you want, I work at Gringotts. I know that the goblins have records of magical guardians and what is happening in the family affairs. I can ask about what it going on." The man looked up at Alex with wide eyes. "However, you will need to come as well, as I'm not the child's...anything. Because you are connected to him as his godfather, then you should be able to find out where he i-" Alex felt a pair of hands reach across the table, which was laden with bits of remaining food, to grab him and pull him into a hug.

The mutterings of thank yous from the grown man made it feel as though he was spending time with a child, but he smiled nonetheless. After all, he had over one hundred years on Sirius Black.

Using a quick wandless cleaning charm, Alex clean both of their clothes of any rubbish that fell upon them during Sirius' episode. Luckily the building had few in it, so not too many people were disturbed, let alone cared about the clattering of the table.

"I can't thank you enough for this Alex, if there is any way I can thank you, for this and for getting me out, please tell me." Alex smiled at Sirius Black.

"Well...I do have a bit of a housing problem."


End file.
